


Always With Me, Always With You

by opti



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternative Lifestyles, BDSM, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3842404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opti/pseuds/opti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy wants her to know he's always <i>hers</i> and she's always <i>his</i>. Always, and forever. </p><p>Set after "Johnny Karate Super Awesome Musical Explosion Show!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Soft Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Hana for putting up with me and being _supremely_ helpful in every sense, and to Ashley for screaming with me when I needed that. 
> 
> This is an experiment with the idea of D/s April/Andy and, as the tags **clearly** say, daddy dom/little girl dynamic. I expect you to do some research and understand this dynamic before reading or commenting, or at least follow the story with an open mind. I'm not an expert, _at all_ , but I expect that much. So, of course if the idea of this dynamic bothers you or D/s April and Andy (especially sub April) confuses you, and you've no interest in swaying that opinion, this is an explicit warning for you to stop reading.
> 
> Title is taken from the Joe Satriani song of the same name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this as multiple chapters to really, _really_ get the point across with the themes here. Also, you can get out early if you read this and decide "no thanks."

It eats at him the whole night. Part of Andy that's grown over the years and become something new for the both of them has changed the way he looks at her. There is nothing in the world more disheartening than April without a smile, and losing herself behind those large brown eyes he can never deny, so when he learns she hides from him and thinks she's taking away what he loves - some stupid cable-access show that honestly he doesn't need with her in his life - he has to reaffirm his resolve. On the car ride he asks her if she wants anything at all, or if she wants to stop somewhere, or if she wants to talk. They don't, instead driving and Andy holding her hand.

Their life has changed in lots of ways recently, and for years now. They discovered things about each other they never knew they wanted, or that they could give, and the security of their marriage and love only made it so easy.

When they return from the set, April looks exhausted. Whether it be the confession that she was taking away what he loved, or just the hour, Andy wants her to be herself again and be happy. Her eyes still have a faint redness to them that scares him and her hands shake a little. Whatever she felt she needed to hide from him, Andy wanted her to know that she could say it and never had to hide herself. What they do - who they are at home, who she is at work and when she is  _his_ princess, always and forever - shouldn't ever make her worried about talking to him. Andy's there for her, he's supposed to care for her and he's failed.

That's his takeaway from all of this: failure. When he should have been there to listen to what she was saying, and what she was  _actually_ saying to him, and to pick up all the signals he had been too wrapped up in the show and in finishing what he wanted that Andy forgot she was there too. It makes him a failure, and undeserving of his new 'sir' title he was a little excited to try on earlier in the night.

"Hey," he brushes aside her hair to look at her. April smiles at the small gesture. "Are you okay?"

April hesitates. That's answer enough. "Yeah," she lies.

Normally, that'd be cause for something more, her lying straight to his face, but April has taken a careful eye to keeping  _those_ times different from the rest. It's never made more sense to Andy that they can cut up times and have those special hours to themselves, and he will never, and honestly wouldn't be able to, restrict who she is outside of this. It doesn't have to be every moment of every day for her to be this way, and for her to understand what she identifies as, so he understands. Hell, it took him a while to understand the idea and understand what being like this meant to her.

She doesn't need him to punish her, and tell her what she's done wrong, and Andy knows that. The soft hand is what she needs now, and the safety and comfort she can hopefully find in him.

"I'll run you a bath," he works on his cuffs, taking off his jacket and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"No, it's-"

"You deserve it," he adds with a practiced, forceful tone.

April's lips curl only a little, but it's enough. "Okay," she rectifies, going into the kitchen.

He'll need to be soft now. Years have taught him to be harder, and to direct both of them, but he's never ever going to have anything but love in his heart for his wife, and care for her. They've fluctuated, and come to new terms and new ideas, and Andy thinks back on all of them when he's in the bathroom running the water just hot enough for her. Adding in the little salts and pouring a bit of the leftovers from last time in, he pulls up his sleeves and swirls the water with his hands. April comes in, her eyes still looking as weak and without that  _flair_ and heat behind them he loves so much.

Anything she wants, she gets. Anything April needs, he gives her, and anytime he needs to be there Andy will. Andy is there for her and needs her to know that. He walks over and hugs her, because sometimes it's not about lists or planning or anything at all. Sometimes it only has to retreat to what they were before she was his little girl, though in spirit that has never changed. Though there was nothing physically intense in what she had done, clearly April had fought with these emotions. They burned her, and tore at her, and to be the space that she could no longer confide in and be safe hurts him.

There are few pains like learning you are no longer the safety she can confide in. When he is no longer the bedrock that she has to rely on sometimes, and it hurts Andy so much that he wants to reforge that and reconstruct what they apparently lost.

"Hey," she says quietly, her face looking so broken and scarred with worry that they'll talk about this. 

They've struggled with making it a lifestyle. Restricting who she is scares him, but they've come to agreements and right now they need to go back to when he cares for her. It's not sexual, but Andy knows this is what the face that needs his care looks like. He loves her too much to pass it up.

"Babe," he starts, the old nickname making her face soften just a little. "You know you're always my little girl right?"

"Yeah," she nods with an appreciative tilt. "I know."

"You don't have to keep anything from me," he smooths out a wrinkle in her cardigan, smiling at her. "Now come on, you haven't gotten in your bath yet."

April starts to remove her clothes herself, but Andy gets behind her and slips the red cover from her. Moving down to her feet, he helps her out of her shoes and up to her dress. She smiles when he helps her work it down off of her shoulders and push her out of the straps. Andy lets a kiss sit on the nape of her neck for a moment, warming her and letting gentle breaths touch her until she can calm down at least a little. 

Massaging her forearms and kissing her neck, Andy slows his movements at her hips and slowly helps her work out of the dress. Kicking her shoes away from her, he looks over at the bath to see his work paying off in soft, subtle coloring of the water.

"Do you want this right now?" he inquires knowing that she might need him as Andy, as her husband, or as her caregiver.

That’s what she needs, and he knows it. April needs to give up parts of her mind, to let them be soothed by his care, and when they learned that drawing further back into an almost purely vulnerable state worked even better. Direction treats her with some forward momentum she couldn’t gather herself in her independent life beyond them. Strength gives her a foundation to rely on, something she needs when April has nowhere to go but up and her mind races with too many worries.

He’ll give her all of that, but she has to need it. The willing girl needs to come out if she wants him to be there like that. This is what they have, and what Andy will give her over and over again. She needs to retreat to a space in her mind where the worries of life are nothing more than how to please him, how to be better herself, and what’s going to be more fun the minute after.

Reality and the vague concept of responsibility all drift away, becoming meaningless, when April finds her little. She can be that, and be April the terrifying and independent woman, all without sacrificing one or the other. When she finds her subspace colliding with the idea that she wants to be protected, and wants to feel small so that his very physical, real and dominate _hugeness_ can be around her, April gives in and he wants that. Nothing ever seemed wrong with the idea, and if anything Andy slipped into his role - at first - to appease her. As years went on, it was clear that didn’t work and he let some of his own, anxious energy out. April needed it; needed him.

Safety is difficult to come by for her. Even worse, April found herself confiding in him that she never understood her place at home. Care wasn’t something she willingly received because she never trusted it from her family. Andy is her family, though, and she trusts him. He had to earn it, over years and years before she finally told him what she really needed him to be for her, but she eventually let him have this. That’s the thing that he knows now, and understands and lets him take a taller stance and feel a warm, intense heartbeat every time he thinks of this: she _gave_ him this of her own accord. Her volition in the process proves everything, because he never asked for this and though he never knew he _needed_ this he could have gone forever without it. April, however, made a choice and that was to trust him. Nothing will ever make him more proud of her than admitting what she wants, whom she wants, and when she wants him to be that.

"Yes," she speaks in that broken voice that worries at him.

"You'll always have it. But you have to need it, princess. You know that, right?" he whispers, pressing fingers through the waist of her panties and pulling them down for her. Back to his stance, she's naked save for her bra and Andy slowly works on that too. "I'm here for you."

"I need you, daddy," she turns around and throws her arms around his neck. 

April lets go of herself again, and she shakes a little. This is her form of shrinking, and falling back. Her small frame feels even tinier in his arms and somehow like she's disappearing between his arms, losing herself, and Andy never wants that. With the extreme comes the soft, and he must give them all to her. He will. Andy has to.

She looks up into his eyes and part of him sees it there behind the large, doe-like expression: fear. April is scared. Both her the woman and she the little are all frightened and they need both Andy her husband and Andy her caregiver to be there. He will.

"You're here," he whispers, picking her up and carrying her over to the bath. 

"I am," she acknowledges, nodding against his shoulder. 

"Do you want your bath?" he asks playfully, smiling and teasing at her nose with his. April looks up and the worry is overrun by a small light in her eyes. 

"Yes, please."

He slowly works her down, light in his arms and into the bathwater. It smells heavenly, just like what April loves. No matter what she tries to be on the outside, all dark and agony and hating these softer touches, Andy knows she likes these things. Small pampers, rewards, all things he's given her. Things she deserves.

"Here you go princess," he lays her in the hot water, April instantly sighing and warming up all over with the contact. "Do you want me to-"

"Stay," she interrupts. Her eyes have that apologetic flash to them but he doesn't mind the interruption now. She's disciplined, but doesn't need to be right now. "Sorry, I meant-"

"No, you don't have to apologize now. I want you to know," he gets to his knees with his sleeves still rolled up, taking the little scrub she loved and nestling the fibers against her back and softly moving against her skin. "That I'm always here for you. Always, baby, and I meant everything I said back there and you're what I love. _You're_ my princess."

April gives him a hopeful look and sits back in the water. Resting her neck on the edge of the tub, she stays submerged and plays with waves of the water every few minutes while Andy slowly scrubs her arms and constantly smiles at her. Doing this sets off a special joy in him that Andy always knew existed but didn't know reached him in this way, because to him it is just an extension of caring for her and caring about her. Washing away any pain with a splash of water along her chest, Andy gets a giggle in exchange. 

He brushes down her arms, leaning forward to give her a kiss occasionally. She likes to be wanted, and likes him to know that she has this part of her mind that needs reminded that it's okay to be alive and be needed but to be given over as someone's charge and to take all of their devotion with every smile she can muster.

Presenting the scrub to her, April takes it and works down her body until she lifts a leg out of the water. Her lip sits out fat, stuck out and above her upper lip in a pout, and she hands him the scrub again. Smiling, he kisses her hand and takes the brush from her to move to her leg. Gently he works through the tight muscles until he's at her knees and she sighs happily at the motions.

Humming a tune to himself, her favorite little indie song that she loves to hear before going to bed, Andy continues his work. The care was about her after all, and hearing April's breathing even out and slow down until she relaxes more in the still hot bathwater is enough for him. At her ankles, she laughs and curls her toes in the ticklish fits he knows she has. Any laughter will do now and this is very real laughter that comes out of her.

"Do you want me to go?" he taps the wet brush to get any excess water clinging to the back of it gone. "You're a big girl. You can take a bath yourself."

"You promised you'd be here," she looks at him pleadingly.

He sighs. "I'm just asking. You know I'm always here," he repeats for her, trying to make her understand that he loves her so much nothing will come between them. "You're  _my_ princess, remember."

"I know," she nods, leaning back into the tub. "I know."

Once she's relaxed and after a few more minutes of the bath, Andy sits back and just watches her. She dips under for a moment, catching her face and her hair in the process and covering herself entirely in the now soapy and still fragrant water. Andy continually hums when he scrubs and washes her, singing when he pours water down her neck and back, and when she's ready to get out he pulls the plug for her and takes her hand to lead her out of the tub. 

This softness is the care and love he’s always shown her, but layered upon years of new and exciting aspects of their relationship. April takes what she takes and gives what she gives, all in the name of releasing herself into that care. He takes what she _offers_ and accepts what she _wants_. There is no pain where it is undeserved, nor a scold where whisper necessary. Andy doesn’t tape her for errors or misunderstanding, instead savoring his kindness for those moments and relinquishing her favorites in those brief failures. That is their life, that is what they have and what he never wants her to forget.

Grabbing her robe from behind the door, Andy drapes it over her and walks her back to their room. Going into her closet, he retrieves her favorite pajamas and helps her into them. When that's done, he returns the robe to the bathroom only to find her snuggled up on the bed with one of her stuffed animals. She's curled around the little dog, like a tiny ball and he chuckles softly to himself before lying down beside her. April immediately conforms to him, turning around and burying into him.

She smells of lavender and vanilla, and she has a tiny smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he offers, knowing full well she won't. He'll still give her the opening, letting her know.

April opens her mouth but only lets out a breath. "No, daddy," she whispers and nuzzles his chest with her stuffed dog between them.

"You want me to sing you something?" he tries.

"Please," she mumbles into him.

He returns to the melody from before, getting the same smile and April eventually nods off in his arms. Pulling another, thin blanket over them Andy settles in to try and find some sleep.


	2. The Steady Hand

For a few days, he tries to pull it out of her but knows that her limits are there for a reason and when she’s ready she’ll talk. The night after the final taping of Johnny Karate taught her that, or so he hoped. The morning after she dutifully pulled him free and took care of him with her dog still clutched under her arm, giving him at least a little comfort that April knew she was _his_ in every way.

Morning rituals were the hardest to balance. Sometimes she wanted to be his little girl, and oftentimes not, so they never stressed them. Autonomy and consent came first, after all. So she goes to work dressed in a favorite outfit of hers, asking if she can wear it. There isn’t a second thought in Andy’s mind about telling her _no_ , but she likes to have that as a reminder throughout the day.

At work, she’s who others see her as. In every situation, she’s always April but at home and at work she operates in different ways. Cold, callous, and oftentimes distant April is at work where she doesn’t feel the need to connect. At home, things are different. Much, much different. For years now they’ve balanced and struggled with this, mostly Andy, but he’s become better for it. Still, the reason they don’t invite many people over anymore is never because they worry about what their house looks like or any other seventy, dumb things that most people do. It’s because they still haven’t told anyone about this, April mostly scared what people would think of her. So, naturally, they keep the two worlds apart.

It doesn’t bother them. Andy sends her texts all day with her lists - the short ones she gets - and she answers them all perfectly. It’s sufficient when April has her open, forward independence that never changes but needs the love and support he has to take this shape, and she’ll gladly send him snaps of her journal throughout the day. She fills out what she wants, and needs, and leaves him a special note at the end of every text that mimics what she wrote. It works for them, and that’s all that matters. April _was_ herself before, when they weren’t this, but now she _is_ wholly herself in every way and the fulfillment he gives her makes Andy proud and empowers him to continue getting better. After all, there is always space to learn for both of them.

They don’t need to have titles outside of the home, but asking him about the outfit is another reminder. It keeps her in the space she needs to be, where April feels like she’s constantly wearing his orders. At least, that’s how she explained it to him.

Throughout the day, he can’t stop his thoughts of her and where they trail. It gets so bad that he finds himself wandering into a store a little out of his way back from cleaning up the last few odds and ends at the studio. Little things, pampers, that she loves and that he showers her with. Toys of every variety, stuffed animals that she now has an immense collection of various sizes, and all kinds of offerings as a sign of love. He leaves the store with a gift-wrapped package in his hands, a little paper and a neat, silvery bow she’ll like. Driving back home, the door’s unlocked and she must be there. Trying to remember to show her softness, he has to remember their one, serious rule. When he sees her in the kitchen, he’s not disappointed.

She walks around with a little collar around her neck, along with her undershirt and the pants from the workday, the chain unconnected for ease of daily routine. After searching and searching and being unable to decide, a little no-frills pink collar was her favorite since it never got in the way and had so many uses with the detachable chain. April catches sight of him as he enters the living room and smiles, walking over to greet him with a hug.

“How was work?” he asks her on the spot, still unsure where her head is.

“Boring, and stupid,” she sighs. So it’s professional, independent April for now. Andy sets the present down beside him. “I can’t wait to actually be out of there. That whole place was destroying my soul.”

“Can’t wait for you to be out of it either, babe. You’ll be so much happier,” he notes, leaning down to kiss her.

April nods and then notices the little gift.

“Do you want that?” he looks back from the little paper bundle over to her.

“Yes,” she nods.

Andy tilts his head, eyebrow firing up and trying to relegate some patience to her. This was always the hardest part for him, trying to be disciplining and having the steady hand when the soft wasn’t needed.

So he just shakes his head.

“Say it again,” he commands her.

“Yes, please,” she corrects herself with a smile.

“Good girl,” he tells her before taking the package and handing it to her.

She eagerly attacks it, and Andy appreciates the enthusiasm but is _much_ happier with the way she corrected herself. Details like that were hard for him to handle sometimes, and he’s gotten so much better at it, so that sense of failure starts to drain from him.

Opening up the package, her face lights up when she finally sees her present. Inside is a pair of lilac colored panties with the little poofy frills that look ridiculous by themselves but fantastic on her. Looking up at him, she crosses the distance and hugs him hard.

“Thank you, daddy,” she whispers into his neck.

“I saw them and thought of you,” he says when she finally gets every bit of paper away from them.

“They’re going to mean so much to me,” she tells him, honestly.

While she appraises them, the image of her wearing them is too much to ignore immediately. He’s given and shown her the soft hand, and wants her to remember the steady hand. The hard hand will come later, when she needs it, but now she’s going to show him so that April knows he’s there. She needs it after all, like a daily reminder that Andy won’t ever leave her.

“Show me how you look in them,” Andy interrupts her reverie with an uncharacteristic calm. “Now.”

April freezes for a moment before relaxing with a smile and undoing her jeans. Dropping them to the floor, she reveals the plain blue she’s been wearing all day. She quickly lowers her underwear and turns around, her head drooping low. Before she can bend over, Andy sighs.

She looks over her shoulder. “Did I do something wrong?” she asks in that tiny voice full of worry. He shakes his head to alleviate it, but he does have a request:

“Show me kitty.”

A dark red flush spreads to her face and April turns around, looking down at her waist. She’s neatly shaven into a vaguely trapezoidal shape, the attempt at very proper trim good enough, and the groomed tuft of bush trailing down her makes his mouth water. Struggling to hold that back, since it isn’t her time yet, he nods approvingly.

“Very good,” he adds, smiling.

April returns it before bending over to put the panties on. Pulling them up, she has a self-satisfied glint in her eye and he’s proud of it. Better yet, she does little twirls that make the frills spin with her and she bounces on her feet a little sending them up and down in the air. She’ll always be pretty, and beautiful, and his, but in her collar with a thin white shirt and things he’s bought her she’s irresistible. She adjusts them on her waist a little more and wiggles her toes, all with a broad grin on her face.

That, right there, is what he needs to see. Little dimples slope upward with her smile and her eyes have _that_ light to them, behind them a need for this praise and to be told and to be herself again, that he misses. Even if she never tells him, openly and with her words, he wants to physically be there and show her. His rising bulge should be enough, but she’s too enraptured in her clothing to notice.

This is what she deserves, and what she should _know_ works with them. What she felt at the final taping shouldn’t be what she always feels and how afraid she was that he’d let go of her, he knew that’s what this was Andy just _knew_ , should never be something she’s worried about with him. April won’t lose him when they leave for Washington, and they won’t lose this. Husband and wife, two best friends, princess and her daddy. They’ll keep all of it; it’s theirs, and always will be.

“I love your gift,” she exclaims, turning around to show him her ass in them which he of course has to struggle to look away from. April stares at herself too before locking eyes with him again. “They are perfect.”

“Princess looks so good in them,” he starts before unbuckling his belt with trained dexterity.

“Thank you, daddy,” she drops her eyes to watch him, her voice still keen with enthusiasm. He slips the leather out of the loops and drops it to the floor, undoing his pants. “What-”

“Princess will look better sucking daddy’s cock,” he interrupts with intent, slipping himself free.

April’s eyes dart to him immediately. He holds himself in the air, fist firm at his base, while she stares at his length in wonderment. She flits up to him occasionally before settling down on her knees, without being told and knowing exactly what to do.

Pulling her shirt over her head, her pert breasts take the force of gravity down with them and her nipples show hard and fierce in the light. He stiffens at the sight and at April’s obedience with her slow clamber towards him on her hands and knees.

Crawling over to him, her ass rises and falls with the frills draped over each cheek and he wonders about flipping her and getting the chain. His hand would fit neatly around her neck, but she certainly _doesn’t_ like that. Which is okay, boundaries are boundaries. They’re a couple, a married couple, after all so things like that need to be discussed as themselves beyond this dynamic. So, right now, he’s going to make his little girl blow him.

When she reaches him, her mouth drifts over his head lazily for a few moments.

“Little girls know not to tease,” he warns her, pushing himself between her lips.

To _show_ her what he means, Andy grabs the back of her head and shoves the rest of his length far back into her mouth. So far that he’s pressing into her throat and sitting there. She gags around him, rough and a deep, guttural thing that would scare him if he wasn’t used to it, until he pulls back out of her dripping with saliva.

Some connects her in a thin line from mouth to tip, eventually dissipating and snapping to her chin.

“Sorry,” she tries on before taking him halfway down again and submerging him in there once again. Bobbing quickly, she pulls him back out and looks up. “Is that better for daddy?”

“Your mouth isn’t for words right now,” Andy begins, trying to muster whatever silly seriousness he can and watching her eyes widen. “I’ll show you how a good girl uses her mouth.”

Before she can ask anything, he slams back to the hilt in her. Pulling back, he pushes again until he’s gathering speed between her lips and gripping the back of her head hard. The little collar _clinks_ at every thrust with the momentum lifting the metal attachments, and her panties catch air as her whole body shifts with the force of his cock.

Shoving, but not forcing, he breaks past the barrier between her lips over and over and until the vigor in his thrusts tires him out. Pumping his hips back and forth, letting her take every inch of him, Andy smiles down at her.

Her eyes are wet, and her voice muffled and choking as she breathes through her nose, and Andy lets his hand fall to her cheekbone and touch her hair softly with every thrust.

“You’re doing such a good job, princess,” he rewards her with his voice and eyes, and cock.

Deeper he goes with every movement, urging her throat to constrict around his head with each lunge. Sometimes she closes her eyes and blinks away the wetness and Andy doesn’t scold or hate her for it. Everyone has faults, and she’s trying her best to stare at him the whole time he takes her mouth. This is what their love is, and what he expects from her and what she gladly _gives_ over to him.

Lowering his hand to her collar, he holds her tight and uses it for purchase. The chain isn’t near, but his grip is strong. He guides her to a pace he wants, and she follows until she’s given the space to try it herself. She sucks and tastes with the speed he looks for, eyes still watering and lips now swollen from his entrance. The grotesque noises fill the house, slipping around him with her mouth and April trying to create even more wet friction with harder gulps.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, watching her figure out her speed and bringing him so close. “Do you want my come?”

She nods, taking his dick with her in the motion.

“You can speak,” he gives her, pulling himself out of her but keeping against her mouth. “Tell me, now.”

“She wants it so bad,” April rambles around his head. “Wants it so bad. Your little girl’s naughty.”

“Nasty,” he corrects, smiling at her. “Princess is dirty.”

“Thank you,” she smiles and takes him back in her mouth.

She never moves either hand from the ground, simply pleasing him with her tongue and throat. Eventually he takes hold of her collar again, pushing further and further back until that same gagging greets him with a harsh whir through the house and compulsory tightening around his head. Back, and in once more to the same spot, not giving her a chance to recover.

When he couldn’t hold her neck forcefully because of both of their issues with it they find a substitute that works for them.

April chokes on him again, this time opening her mouth wider to hope for air but only lets slobber roll past her bottom lip and onto the floor. She breathes hard through her nose and he releases her seal and sets his head against her cheek and already revelling in the first pulse. Moaning through it, Andy looks directly into her eyes with his mouth agape as that stream hits her.

Come spits across her face, some latching onto her forehead and dripping and some lacing from where her dimples end to below his head. All the while she breathes haggard and lets rough coughs escape, her mouth still trying to recover from the intense fucking it had been given. When he’s finished, pearly gray lines crisscross all over her face from the right side where he sat to her lips and chin.

He grins wide down at her and she returns it happily. His darling covered in him is enough to burn away any and all disappointment.

“Now princess is _beautiful_ ,” he tells her, taking her hand and lifting her up.

“Did I do a good job?” she asks in a raspy drawl, her voice still rumbling and getting used to oxygen.

“Breathe,” he directs her airflow with a steady voice. “In your nose-” she takes a large gulp of air in her nostrils, “and out your mouth. Good.”

She stays with her breathing exercise for a few moments, Andy watching her with the focus he’d learned. Reaching down to her new panties, between her legs, he dips a finger low and runs it along the length of her fat lips through the fabric. Smiling at just how incredibly wet she is, he brings the finger away from her.

“I was going to reward you for being such a good girl, and so beautiful with daddy’s come on your face,” he explains, watching the fluid sit on her as she breathed. “I think you deserve to be cleaned up, first.”

April nods, following him to the bathroom where he works it off of her face with water and soap and eventually a towel. Her cheek is red from the cleaning, but she’s still smiling when he’s finished.

Taking her hand he leads her to the bedroom and pulls off her chain from behind the door. Latching it onto the collar, she smiles and takes his direction until she’s sitting on the bed in front of him. He pulls lightly on the chain just to awaken the muscle memory of how to work with the weight in his hand. She sits on her knees, hands stabilizing her between her legs, and watches him patiently. The punishment he showed her before was taking her mouth hard, and now it was time for her.

Tightening his grip on the chain again, he clears his throat. “How does my little girl need it?” he chooses his words carefully, because she has to _need_ it.

“You know best,” she widens her stance and keeps eye contact with him.

“I got it,” he chuckles, walking over to her. Pulling lightly at the chain, she bows low and he dips his hand to her butt in those panties. “Mmm, baby you _are_ so wet.”

He touches her from behind, gently massaging her through the soft, bright material and listening for the light cooing that escapes her lips. Andy dips his fingers underneath the backside, firmly squeezing one of her cheeks before pulling out and giving her a wry smile. The obvious hardness of her nipples resumes, the waning arousal finding a new avenue with his control over her movement with the chain and his subtle touches. Grasping the edge of her panties, he slowly works one side down her leg until April gets the idea.

She leans back on the bed, Andy never letting go of her leash as he slowly slides her new underwear off of her. Taking them off of her ankles he savors a brief whiff of the wet spot that built up all over the crease of them, causing April to smile wider. Part of this was showing her how good she’s been, and taking care of her was part of that but being the obvious link for her sexual desires - and being the person that was wholly, indomitably _hers_ as well - was the other. He only directs and fucks _one_ mouth; plays with and protects _one_ kitten; orders and loves _one_ princess: His.

Balling them up in his fist, he taps her lip and she opens up. Pushing into her mouth, he leaves a small trail running down her bottom lip in case. Now she can suck on herself the whole time.

“You will nod when I do something you like, understand?” he curls his fingers around the leather attachment in his hand. “If you don’t like something, you pull back on the chain.”

April’s stuffed mouth gives a weak reply before she nods her head.

“You will listen to me. Everything I’m saying, every word, and everything I tell you to do. Answer these with a nod, or pull, because I want to make sure my girl knows she’s only doing things she likes,” he spells out obviously. It’s obvious, to both of them, but she needs to hear it from his own mouth. April deals well in instruction. “Are we clear?”

April nods again, smiling weakly against the fabric in her mouth. She slurps around it, clearly salivating against her own arousal and Andy has to take in a deep breath at that sound. Taking another few inches off of her leash, wrapping it around his fist again, he keeps a steady grip as he takes the inside of her left thigh and brushes it to the side. Doing the same with her right, Andy spreads her legs for her with harsh, sudden pushes. She doesn’t pull back on her chain, only staring at him.

“Lean back, and show me,” he keeps his hold on her but April falls back onto her hands and keeps her knees hiked and legs apart.

With her pussy bared, spread wide, he eyes her. April sits back on her wrists, watching him cover her entirely with his gaze. Reaching a hand down, he touches her clit already impatient for him and lets out a long-held breath when she squirms. Circling her with two fingertips, he looks at her and April nods. She gives another soft moan when he slips his fingers lower, just touching her lips barely and he tightens his grip on her leash until she’s pulled forward and closer to his face.

Spreading her apart with his index and middle fingers, April’s mouth opens a little bit with her panties still silencing her. Streams of wetness drip past her lips to her chin without the ability to suck it back in, April nodding quickly as he slides his fingers up and down the rosy flesh of her labia.

“You’re so good,” he mumbles, looking down at his fingers idly rubbing her and the heaving of her chest. “Kitty is so pretty. Feels so good.”

April nods the moment his thumb presses on her clit. Again when he lets his middle finger flutter near her entrance. Once more, rapidly tilting her head with fevered and hidden moans, as that finger presses into her wet and hot. Lubricated in the juices spreading across his hand, she’s so easy to fuck that it makes his eyes glaze staring at her. April looks up and he growls deep in his chest.

“Don’t look away,” he pulls on her leash lightly, just enough to get her attention. April darts back to his eyes and hers widen, as if afraid. “Good girl. Just look in my eyes, and I’m here. I’m not leaving.”

Her eyes soften and April nods, blinking rapidly and her eyes dilating when he joins the rhythmic action of his finger curling up against and into the soft presses of his thumb. This is what he loves. Her, and making her come, and giving her everything a good girl deserves in the bedroom when she behaves. Her little space needs sexual desire, and needs to be taken care of in every way between her legs to her mind and never forgetting the connection there.

“I’m never leaving you,” he repeats, speeding up his hand. “I’ll be here, forever. With you. Wherever, whenever.”

He adds the last one in and April’s eyes nearly glaze over. The familiar tension in her muscles goes and her hand rises to the chain, but not to pull. She merely holds it like it’s their link beyond the mental, the physical, and their love. It’s the lifeline for this, and is meant for him to discharge these primal urges he finds himself with and April’s little needs them directing her and showing her. The bond shakes, like then, but it doesn’t break and they both pull and push and the tension changes but it will never break.

This bond - his girl, her caregiver - will change, and it will be reshaped, but with time it will be there when she needs it. He wants to tell her all of this, but his mouth stops working when she’s tightening around his fingers.

“I can feel you coming, princess,” he whispers with their faces so close but his arm still holding her taut from the side. Thankful for his regimes, his muscles only tense up rather than fail. “You’ve been so good. I’ll let you now. You can do it. I believe in you.”

He says this, those last words - _I believe in you_ \- and can feel everything in her body immediately release. Her muscles soften, her breathing quickens, and her chest deflates from pushing out so much air through her nose. April stares at him the whole time, one eyelid drooping when he curls a finger in her and can feel her wet and thick in throbbing waves around him.

As she finds the edge of her release, he yanks hard on the leash until it cuts off the side of her neck and her breathing lifts with the falling volume of her moans. The strength of them, too, dies out as he keeps her head tilted to the side. When she finishes, or her body stops shaking and convulsing and she instead slowly bucks into his hand, he lets her relax back into the collar without his intense pull around her.

“You’re doing it. Be brave,” he softens and lets his tight hold on her lessen until he’s barely pulling on her collar anymore. “I always knew you were good. You proved it to me, princess. I love you so much.”

Andy reaches for her panties and pulls them out, ruffled and mixed with her sex and mouth, for her to breathe easier. Thankfully, she smiles wider and blinks away any moisture in her eyes from the rough treatment of her throat that day. He can tell a bruise will erupt on that side of her neck, but he’ll make sure it’s better and will cover it for her. Andy is meant to be there and kiss it better, and tell her it’s okay.

“I love you, daddy,” she groans as he pulls out of her and she stays sitting only with the barest support of her arms and mostly Andy holding her up.

It takes him a moment to release her from the connection, putting the links back on the door. She takes a few moments to find her surroundings, and then April looks up at him, expectant.

“Do you want another bath?” he offers her, turning and getting to his knees beside her on the bed.

“No,” she answers back quietly.

“D’you want your animals?” he looks pointedly at the collection on the dresser across from the bed.

“No,” she returns, looking back to him with wide, glistening eyes. “Did you mean it, Andy?”

Her voice changes, and he knows she’s fallen out of it; her little space is left behind for something else. At least some of it, and her mindset is confused and needs him there. The tone in her shy question is familiar, but she wants him as Andy, her husband, then. He knows that. So he gets across from her on the bed, holding her hand.

“Honey, I meant all of it. I don’t… I know how you feel, and you’re just getting in your head again,” he smiles at her and she gives it back to him with a coy turn of her head.

“Anywhere?”

“Everywhere,” he answers.

“Whenever?”

“Every day, all day, any time you need me,” he assures her with a squeeze of her hand. “I’ll always be here to listen to you. Don’t forget that. I love you so much, babe.”

“I love you too,” she says quickly, like it’s been dying to escape in this voice.

He leaves her on the bed for one moment to retrieve another shirt from her closet. Helping her into it and a pair of his boxers, Andy hugs her tight with all the love he can muster into his arms. Embracing her close to his chest, she buries her face there and he can feel something wet against his shirt that makes his body lighter and hurt spread all over him. She shivers in his arms and Andy lets one hand rub across her back.

“C’mon, April,” he kisses her forehead and tips her chin up to look at him. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

She sniffs and nods, leaning up to kiss him on the mouth. That same fire burns in his chest from it, so old but still so new and incredible it almost pains him to think of it ever going away. When she breaks apart she’s smiling much wider.

Shifting back, he sees what others would call an imperceptible change in her eyes.

“Will daddy cook me mac and cheese?” she asks with that smile still spread all over her face, in every look.

“Sure, princess,” he nods, taking her hand and leading her down the stairs to the kitchen.

After the meal, he’ll lay with her again and they’ll cuddle with her animals more. He’ll talk to her, in and out and however she needs it, and make sure she knows he’s there.


	3. The Hard Hand

The days that follow are the same. She needs him after, sometimes never running back to her little and staying as who they are outside of the home and it’s okay because they both need days like that. Times when they can be who they are now, who they were years ago, and take solace in the fact that it will always be there. For days he’s tried to explain this, but it usually causes April to scare easily and worry too much and if there’s anything he wants less than that Andy’s never known it.

Sometimes, he makes it extra special for her. He’ll set her aside in their room under the promise of leaving her with her animals for a little while, only to return with the well-fitted suit she told everyone looked “sexy” on him. The one without shoulder pads and with the silvery, chain-link cuffs. It’s sexy to her because of who he is underneath it, and the confidence it gives him. She sits on the bed with a pile of stuffed animals, staring at one when he enters and her face is alight with joy at the sight. He undoes his cufflinks and closes the door, unraveling the chain from its place behind the door.

Those nights happen, and they all let her know - the acts, the requests, the _orders_ , and his care - that she need not worry.

One night she comes home from work crying, telling him it’s all her fault that he’s losing everything and everyone at work hates her. Pulling her into his lap, he holds April close the whole night and whispers reassurances and loving words to her. Telling her that he’s never going to lose what he loves makes her look up at him, wide eyes darkened but coming back to him. It’s still the strong April that refuses to obey, but it’s only a few moments before she melts into his arms then.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Daddy?”

He’s interrupted from his reverie on the couch by her voice. Looking down his formal shirt, undone and unbuttoned to show her the casual nature of the time, she’s staring over her shoulder. April sits across his stomach, her feet in the air perpendicular to his chest where her knees are set. Where he’s partially undressed and in his shirt and shorts, she lies across him in very small, pink and white panties and a tank that rides up above her waist. He gently holds her leash in the air, without pulling, still attached to her collar. A reddish series of marks adorn her backside, each cheek bright and still sore.

“Sorry, what?” he gives her the smallest pull and she grins.

“Were you taking a nap without me again?” she asks in a small voice full of the pouting in her lips.

“Never,” he scoffs, but keeps the lightness in his eyes and smile on his face. “Just thinking about my perfect princess is all.”

“Why do we have so much playtime now?” she inquires, tilting her head onto her hands joined at her right side.

“Because you’ve been good,” he touches the stinging red marks with his fingertips, lightly squeezing her right cheek. She moans softly at it, a hint of pain in the sound. “Did today hurt too much?”

“No!” she answers him with a half-shout, almost shaking on his body. “You know when I’ve been bad. I can’t hide it from you.”

Really, all she had done was forget her collar. Even when they didn’t do anything, she wore it. The collar goes with her wherever they do, always in her purse or in a little varnished box with felt cushioning inside he had made special for her. The collar itself was nothing unique, but the box meant the world to her and sat on the dresser next to her favorite animals. When she didn’t wear it he sighed and pointed at the stairs, April going up them. In the bedroom, she cautiously kneeled before he bent her over the bed in her underwear and caused the profuse marks all across her cheeks. Each spank was a message, and although she liked it lightly he made sure he did it with anything but a soft touch.

The hard hand. He needs to give her that sometimes, and it’s all to show that he _means_ everything he says. The strength in his words has force, they have consequence, and she needs to know them. Afterward, when she had received her punishment he let her lie across his body to relax and not stress her by sitting down on the soreness.

“So what’s wrong?”

“I dunno,” she shrugs, looking back down at the couch. “We had lots before… but now you’re so much stronger, daddy. You make it so much harder.”

“Because you deserve it that way, princess,” he presses his right hand further between her legs towards her pussy. “Kitty deserves it too.”

He only teases her and she smiles, her eyes refocusing on him when he removes his finger pressing slightly into her. Resting back on her cheek, he runs his hand not clutching the leather handhold up to the backside of her knee. Still, he means it and isn’t going to lessen his strength unless she actually asks him. _Asks_ and in that voice, the one he knows means a shift, but until then he’ll take and give as hard as she deserves and needs.

She stares at him. “Daddy still isn’t hard enough,” she complains with a short whine in her voice that catches him off-guard. “You should-”

The little shrill punch in her voice at the end tells Andy she knows it was a mistake to word it that way, right when she stops herself. She looks at him in apology, but he shakes his head. Sitting up, he lets her fall onto the couch in her position. Still holding her leash he walks her along to the little drawer next to the fridge. Inside is duct tape. Returning to the couch he points at the cushion and she lays on her stomach once more. Shaking his head again, he turns April all the way around by the back of her leg. On her back, she naturally lifts her legs to avoid letting her butt touch the couch. She’s fat against the small underwear, lips peeking out from either end of the fabric enclosing her, and he sighs. The sigh tells her, lets her know, that she’s taken too much for her own.

The hard hand must be given.

Tugging on her collar hard, she angles upward and looks at him. He swiftly pulls her underwear up to her knees and holds his gaze. Silently, he pushes her legs apart and eyes her closely. Taking them off the rest of the way, he balls them up and puts them in his pocket.

“Little girls don’t tell their daddies what to do,” he accentuates by shortening the length of her leash until she’s made to lean at a strict forty-five degree angle. “Give me your hands.”

She presents them and Andy unravels the tape with one hand, biting the bit off that he wants. Wrapping it around her wrists tightly, he sets them below her chin so that April looks like she’s resting on them. Standing, leaving her lying down on her back, he hurriedly unbuckles his pants and removes his briefs. Half-hard in the air, she gulps and doesn’t say a word to him. At least she knows that much.

If she did say a word - that one word, _no_ \- his hands would stop. The bonds would be cut, and he’d apologize. This has been earned though, and they both know it, so April doesn’t say anything. If she said their word, _her_ word of power, Andy would return her underwear and let her know that he’s sorry for overreacting but instead she looks into his eyes, staring and unbreaking. Misbehavior deserves a weak response, but telling him _what_ to do within her space is an absolute _don’t_ for them. April told him herself that she takes every aspect of this as his utmost care, and if she needed him to care for her instead of returning with harsh, physical reality he would give it over and over again. She doesn’t.

With her still at that angle, Andy sits down in front of her and pushes her legs apart. Leaning into her, pressing some of his weight into her, Andy keeps a tight grip on her while pressing her knees into her shoulders with his thighs. Reaching between them, he taps the head of his cock against her once, twice, and by the fifth time she’s whining.

“Kitty doesn’t get to play today,” he warns her. It’s Andy’s way of letting her know, giving April the option to say _no_ and end it right here.

He lifts his hand up and spits on it, reaching down to press into her ass. She squeals at first, and he swirls in her for a moment before returning for another on his hand. Never during this does he break the eye contact, looking at her intently. Rubbing his saliva over his now completely hard dick, he presses his head against the tightness of her asshole.

“What did you do wrong?” he asks, pulling on her leash a little and putting an inch inside of her quickly.

April’s eyes roll back for a moment, overtaken by the entrance into her, before she coughs and looks at him. The saliva will only last so long, and the spit in her ass even less, so she knows to answer quickly. With her chest compacted, her legs tightly squished against her and her arms restrained, she can only speak or nod.

“Told daddy what to do,” she says quietly, her voice soon falling into beleaguered moans when he’s halfway inside of her. “Oh _God_.”

Sheathed in her, he pumps swiftly. Giving her no space to move, and keeping her angled with his strong arms holding her up and carrying her back, he tightens his stare and growls. She’s insanely small around his girth, stretching in time to take the length of his cock with fast strokes. April moans and her head lolls back several times only for him to pull it back up into place with the leash. It’s several seconds of staring at her, slamming into her and processing her answer, before he slows down and spits on his hand again to reapply on his shaft just inches out of her.

“Why is that bad?”

“Because little girls don’t tell their daddies what to do,” she repeats with a wiggle in her waist that impales her deeper.

“What do good girls do?”

“Learn from their mistakes,” she answers obediently like it’s burned into her brain.

“Good,” he says, before pulling back and pounding into her in one heavy thrust.

The fatty whole of her cheeks shakes beside him and her entire body seems to vibrate in that instant. Again he pulls back and gives her ass a thrust that could send her whole body flying if he wasn’t holding onto her. Her voice cracks and reverberates all over the house and through them, her hands still taped under her chin and her thighs still flush with her torso, before he repeats it. Repetition, like an exercise in learning, is what he gives her. The hard hand is his cock today, drilling her into obedience like a strong instructor.

It might be moments. Seconds. Minutes. An hour. All of the time he fills with the raucous shaking of the couch underneath them, slapping of his hips against her ass, and the constant fucking he gives her. Harder he goes, trying to instill his point into her desires until it’s clear that she’s learned. He can feel his release building, hers too. The tightness of her ass is too much, and he lets out a soft moan before understanding what he must do. Still holding onto her by back and collar, he keeps his routine of pull, slam, and repeat.

Again, back and into her. Hard. April almost screams, but he can tell when it hurts and when it’s just this intense pleasure that comes with fucking her already sore lower half until he’s bristling with nerves. Looking down, he smiles at the sight of her almost _leaking_ and gives her another long thrust before chuckling. She widens her eyes and he pulls out of her, slapping his shaft on the inside of her leg.

“Please...” she whines, knowing what this means.

“Kitty doesn’t get to play,” he repeats with a deep, throaty harshness.

This is her lesson: nothing today. Today is his pleasure and showing her the idea that telling him what to do will not go without reprimand, and he takes it from her behind while staring at her all the while. His eyes should tell the story of her punishment, and they do, but the hard hand requires reinforcement. Though she’s her own, and April never assumes otherwise, Andy needs her to know that telling him how to be _within_ her space isn’t accepted. His cock inside of her is enough, and should always be enough.

Stroking himself with his spit still around him, Andy’s close. Watching her squirm underneath, he finds the brink and goes harder into his fist until he’s there. April looks down his length the whole time, his head eking through the circle between his fingers and making her whimper. Pumping through his orgasm, he finishes all over her stomach and covers her shirt with his come until he’s done. Each jet is met by April making a soft, pleading noise until he’s spent all he can on her chest and stomach. Sticking against her, he finally eases her down by the leash and his arm around her back until the looseness in her backside is no longer needed and she’s just sitting with her legs hiked in the air breathing hard.

He tucks his dick away and leans down to kiss her forehead. Pulling his pants back up, he watches her stare at her ruined t-shirt soaked in his semen. Tapping her knee, he smiles at her.

“You did good,” he says softly, the disappointment gone now that she’s learned her lesson.

“Am I allowed to-”

“Not tonight,” he shakes his head. “In the morning I’ll take care of you. This is your lesson.”

“Can I-”

“No, and I’ll know,” he inhales a great breath. “I can smell when you do it.”

“I know,” she mumbles and looks down at her hands. “I know I’ve been bad, daddy.”

“But you took your punishment like a good girl,” he walks to the kitchen and returns with a pair of scissors, safely removing the tape from her wrists. “Do you want to talk about it? Babe, you know you can always-”

“Would… I know I did a good job,” April gives him, making Andy smile and he works on the remnants of tape around her wrists. “Andy, I know it’s us. I know that I need this, and you show me… everything. Everything that I need, I trust you with.”

“You know the word,” he nods. “You just say it, and-”

“I know,” April eyes him the whole time, rolling her eyes upward just to avoid his glance for the moment. He’ll forgive it. “I know it.”

“So, what’ll it be?” he eventually asks, sitting with her and rubbing her shoulder. “Don’t say playtime, either.”

“I wouldn’t!” she returns hastily but he just laughs, willing her with him until she’s smiling bright again. “Movies?”

“Movies,” he answers with an earnest smirk.

She easily slides back into her space where everything is freedom and care, love and being little. It's not unusual, or strange, or even surprising to Andy. To him, and to her, it's just another part of her that she's letting him know. If she thinks he makes  _her_ feel special, and wanted, then Andy can't even begin to describe what it's like being given what April hands over in his trust. This place in her mind that always existed, right behind every worry and doubt, is all shining eyes and warm hopes that she never got to have with people she never really trusted with anything. With him, as he wants to prove for the rest of his life, April can trust and can let Andy be there - be the one, the caring, and the strong - when she needs it and wants it. Only when she wants it, always when she needs it.

April’s eyes were bright the whole time, smiling but never willing it onto her face though now she lets it fall onto the rest of her features until his worries drift away about being _too_ rough. Slowly, April lets her legs fall to the couch. Sitting up, she’s wet on her stomach from where the shirt sticks to her and she sighs. Taking her hand, he leads her to the laundry room where she takes her clothes off and sets them in the special hamper after he remembers her underwear in his pocket and tosses them in as well. Taking out a robe that’s freshly dried, he puts it over her shoulders and walks her up to the bedroom.

“Letting you know you’ve been bad is good why, baby?” he rubs her shoulder as he opens the door, looking down at her.

“Because only _you_ get to do it,” she replies.

“Because I’m never going to leave you,” he corrects, caressing her forearm through the robe. “Ever, ever, ever. Not in a million years. Not for-”

“Okay, daddy,” she laughs and the interruption just makes him smile bright and wide at her.

Leaning down, he kisses her on the lips and guides her on weak legs to the bed.Inside, they lie down and turn on the TV.

Getting up, always so forgetful, he pops in her favorite black-and-white movie and takes the dog with a red collar from her pile. Going to the bed, he hands it to her and sits back. Understanding, she snuggles into him and together they watch some universal monster rampage seemingly without a thought otherwise. After a half an hour, the sounds are drowned out by her light snores as April’s clearly tired from the day as a whole. Luckily, all of her punishments were easily and always well-hidden. Tucking himself closer to her, Andy drifts off quickly without the need to stay up with her keeping him awake.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Andy takes a deep breath, the leather in his hand warm and comforting. Lying atop the wide, marbled counter there's a soft whimper that's more a plea than a cry - a little something they save for very special occasions, and what better occasion than a new house - and he smiles down at her figure. Bound at ankles and wrists, she stays in the place he positions her at. The usual methods were tested a little further, with just a bit more of a tie around her forearms and closer to her elbow, and all the way around her legs in tight circles. He's been practicing, and the long, red streaks that appear when he removes the stressful binds around her make him wonder; wondering if it's okay, but her voice shakes with every little touch he has for her until he's touching the toy against her over and over again.

Over, and over, and over. 

Normally, the blindfold isn't combined but she's giving away every single sense now. April hands them over, begging him to take care of them, and Andy has nothing else than a wide smile and faint light in his eyes when she asks. Likewise, saliva builds and builds behind the small ball fit neatly between her lips. When he removes it, she inhales deeply. No loss of air, but April's first instinct is to keep her mouth open as the spit trails from her lip to the ball and she breathes hard. 

"You wanna keep going?" he asks her, softly. The vibrator is already left behind, April clearly to the point where each extra layer of intense, forced pleasure and soreness was useless.

April sighs. 

"Can you say anything?" he gets close and kisses her cheek, making April smile.

"Yeah," she nods. 

Then he sets about removing her fetters and wrappings, letting her down onto the countertop with a practiced ease. Eventually all she has is markings left on her skin from her feet to her hands and all along her chest from the initial test. Testing to see where her boundary, her real boundary for pain, was. It's not that far, but he doesn't need it to be. Neither of them do, as it's only an experiment. If she tells him  _no_ it means that, anyways. It takes her a moment to stretch out, cracking and little snapping noises from the stressed bones. They'll need to get better at stretching, he figures. 

Stretches were always awesome before working out, and he can't have her getting cramps in the middle of a session. Now, though, the time for worrying about that is over.

“I got you babe,” he says with only a whisper of the prior encounter in his voice.

April’s ankles are sore and when she steps by herself down from the table he’s behind her and holds her close. It’s times like these she feels truly cared for. Not that during she’s afraid or distrusts him; no, she’s the one that wants him to quiet her mind and take away all of the demands power requires. But her face heats up and her thoughts are clear, and when he’s enveloping her in a hug it’s hard to feel anything else.

Together they try and move but she’s  _beat_  so Andy does the next best thing. Lifting her up, all that pressure’s relieved and she’s cradled in his arms and buries her head in his shoulder. He’s always been so big, and warm, and her big teddy bear but these moments are when she needs him to be that to the fullest. He delivers every time.

“Look at me,” he whispers to her, walking back to the bedroom. 

April follows up to his gaze, Andy looking at her with the softest eyes she’s ever known. He gently touches her face as best he can.

“C’mon, I need to hear your voice,” he demands with a tiny hint of worry that he tries to mask. “Babe, talk to me.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs, wanting to nestle back into his shoulder but meeting his eyes feels like a link back to reality. “I love you.”

She’s vulnerable right now, naked and sore, and the last thing she needs is to be wrapped up in her thoughts again. Andy’s eyes, that link, soothes that feeling away. Thanking him and telling him she loves him is only an ounce compared to the ton of her emotions at times like this.

“Love you too,” he chuckles, forcing their door open with his foot.

He sets her gently on the bed, going into her drawer for clothes. He comes back with her favorite pajamas and some underwear, getting on the bed and carefully helping her get dressed. Taking a glance behind him, Andy quickly grabs an animal from the pile on their dresser to keep with them. He slips her panties on for her and when he gets back to her ankles he sees the mild, red knots above them.

He kisses her feet, very slowly massaging right above her Achilles tendon, and moves to soft pecks on her ankles. 

“Better?”

April only nods.

He slides the fleece pajama pants up her legs, April lifting her hips and wiggling a little to help, until he gets to her stomach. Looking side to side, he takes her hands in his and stares at them. 

Crawling behind her, Andy spoons her neatly with the curve of her back in his chest. Taking the buttoned shirt, he helps her arms through the sleeves and slowly gets each button worked until she’s fully clothed again. April takes the time to stare at the little stuffed bear, taking it after her shirt's done and pushing it into her still sore chest. This is where she deserves to be after.

Relaxed. Comfortable. Loved.

He undoes her sleeves, peeling them back so he has good options for skin, and brings himself to the other side of her. Lying down, he takes her arm in his hand and slowly kneads up to her palm with a thumb. She feels so tiny then. His hand looks massive against her thin arm, and her even thinner wrist that still  _hurts_ , but he sees her twitch when he reaches her wrist. Andy smiles this little, awesome thing of a grin.

“Babe, you should’ve told me I put ‘em on too tight,” he lets his head down and follows the trail his thumb blazed until he’s at her wrist. “Dude, you’re gonna bruise here. You shoulda told me, that can’t be good for you.”

“I’m fine,” she whimpers, his lips barely even there and just feathering reassurances on her skin. “I liked it, anyways.”

“Yeah?”

“When I can trust you?” she holds his cheek and gently rolls a thumb over him. “I trust you.”

She says it, staring directly into his eyes, to get the point across. April needs this, a time when she can just let him ease her mind and her soul and give in with her body, and he’s always been so happy to oblige. He’s gotten better too, more forceful and willing to try new things and direct her places she doesn’t know but respects and _knows_ he’ll take her there with this same, insurmountable love in his heart. She needs to see his eyes flicker, and light up, because during she doesn’t get that. Losing that sense is all too relieving, but when she has it back Andy respects that.

He kisses her wrist again before moving to her other hand, only brushing his lips against her bone and skin until he’s satisfied. 

“Do you want me to-?”

“Not tonight,” she chuckles, brushing her thighs together. “I’ll be too sore.”

He looks almost disappointed and April’s thankful he goes behind her again because she’s biting back a smile. He nuzzles the back of her neck before freeing her hair from a messy ponytail and letting her hair sit in waves against him. 

“I’ll check in tomorrow, see how you’re doing,” he mumbles into her hair, covering her entirely in his massive, pudgy body and holding her close. “Y’ever want me to just take a little trip down there, wake me up.”

She gives a little, soft laugh and he joins her, muffled by her hair, until they’re in a giggling fit and tightly embraced. April falls asleep not much longer after that, totally at peace with the world for just a moment. He'll give her that moment over and over again, until she realizes it's her whole life. If it takes the rest of his, that's okay. All that matters is his little girl knows she's always with him, and he's  _always_ with her.

**Author's Note:**

> Any questions, complaints, or concerns should be forwarded to my [tumblr](http://anotheropti.tumblr.com/ask).


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